


Thinking Reckless

by ByTheAngell (SomeLittleInfamy)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25751275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeLittleInfamy/pseuds/ByTheAngell
Summary: He was aware of the cut from the moment he got it, he just didn’t mind. If he thinks too hard about it he might wonder if he liked the feeling, one he hasn’t had in a while… so he does his best not to think about it.The same way Alect absolutely doesn’t think about the sense of loss he experiences when Magnus magics the cut, and the pain, away.---Or, how long can Alec convince himself he isn't slipping before he can't climb his way back up?
Relationships: Alec Lightwood & Jace Wayland, Magnus Bane & Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Comments: 48
Kudos: 249
Collections: Fluff vs. Angst Battle 2020





	1. Chapter 1

It starts off innocently enough. Alec is out on a patrol with a few new recruits when things get a little dicey - an unexpected encounter with a demon turns into an unexpected encounter with _several_ demons. Nothing they can’t handle, but it’s far from smooth. When things move to the close quarters of a dark alleyway Alec finds himself in the way of a haphazard, panicked knife slice that catches his arm instead of the intended demon, hissing at the sharp bite of pain. Giving himself a moment to make sure the damage is mostly superficial Alec jumps back in to deliver the killing blows to the remaining two demons.

“Everyone alright?” He calls out, glancing around the small group. They’re winded but wide-eyed with adrenaline, used to trainings and simulations, not the real thing.

“Are _you_ alright?” One of the boys asks him, glancing at the bleeding cut on his arm that’s clearly visible through the torn fabric of his shirt. “I’m _so sorry,_ Sir, I-”

Alec dismisses him with a shake of his head. “I’m fine. It’s fine, Whitmark. Just keep the blade a little closer next time, alright? You have to keep it controlled, no wild swings. If Jace saw that after last week’s lesson he’d have your head,” Alec laughed a little to show the advice comes good-naturedly.

The young Shadowhunter nods, relieved he isn’t in trouble, and Alec puts in a call for a clean-up team before wrangling his patrol back to the Institute to get checked out. There are a few with scratches from the demon, and Alec saw one of them take a pretty nasty fall during the fight, so it’s always better safe than sorry.

There’s a lot going on, from using some of their missteps as teachable moments on the walk back to the general bustle of the Institute when they get back, his focus entirely on the new recruits and the debriefing afterward. The cut on his arm stings, though the pain fades to something dull and comforting among the rest of the night’s activity. Once and awhile, entirely subconsciously, he brings a hand up to touch it gently, wincing slightly at the momentary jolt of pain before it fades back to that background ache, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.

When Magnus asks him about it later Alec says that he just forgot - except that isn’t quite true. He was aware of the cut from the moment he got it, he just didn’t mind. If he thinks too hard about it he might wonder if he liked the feeling, one he hasn’t had in a while… so he does his best _not_ to think about it.

The same way Alect absolutely doesn’t think about the sense of loss he experiences when Magnus magics the cut, and the pain, away.

\---

It’s a rare day off and Alec finds himself sitting out on the balcony, pouring cream into half a dozen tiny saucers for the strays while Magnus is out meeting a client. He’s around Magnus’ Loft often enough that the cats recognize him, and trust him enough to come over to be pet if they’re feeling sociable. The sun is out so Alec shrugs off his jacket and rolls up his sleeves before sitting himself down on the ground. If he’s being honest he hates days off - they make him tense, constantly anxious over things that need to get done, ways he could be helping - and he can’t wait for Magnus to get back and help quiet those thoughts a bit.

Alec starts to play with one of them, swiping his hand back and forth along the ground while the cat bats at it, when the cat finally catches him. Alec snaps his hand back, watching the angry red lines form down the top of his wrist from the cat’s claws.

It hardly hurts, barely a flesh wound, just a light prickling. Nothing worth stopping over, as the cat rolls onto it’s back in a clear dare for Alec to even _try_ and pet it’s stomach. Alec does, and they repeat the game from before a few times before all four of the cat’s paws close in on his arm, catching him in more light scratches.

On some level, he knows exactly what he’s doing. He knows why the pain is so intimately familiar, he knows why he doesn’t stop, even though he should. But he isn’t doing anything wrong. This isn’t his bow or the punching bag. He’s just playing with the cats. It’s fine. _He’s_ fine. For now, he allows himself the comfort of the distraction. The scratches aren’t doing any real harm, so he sees no need to do anything about them right away but he definitely will once he’s done.

Except the sound of the front door reaches him and Alec hesitates only a second before sliding his shirt sleeves down and shrugging his jacket back on, hiding the red marks from Magnus by the time he comes outside. Alec knows it’s wrong the moment he feels the guilt wash over him. Memories of old habits come to him unbidden - of keeping secret cuts and bruises hidden from those around him, ones he’d press on during stressful meetings or when he caught himself drifting or spiraling, to anchor him. He remembers the moments, but more than that, he remembers the _feelings:_ an almost serene sense of focus, of self-awareness, of calming control.

He remembers it all and he misses it, and the desire wins out over the guilt.

“Careful, or they’ll start to like you more than me and follow you back to the Institute,” Magnus jokes, watching the way the ones Alec was playing with come to circle around Alec’s feet first, then Magnus’, as they stand together.

Alec leans in to kiss Magnus hello, feeling the sting up and down his lower arm with the shift of fabric as he moves his arm to wrap around Magnus’ waist. Not just feeling it - enjoying it. He experiences a brief moment of annoyance to think he should be past this, that he should be better than this; it passes as quickly as it came and instead he practically sinks into that familiar comfort like pulling on an old favorite sweater or embracing a friend you haven’t seen in too long.

“They only like me when you’re not here,” Alec reassures him, the smile on his face not betraying an ounce of discomfort despite his constant awareness of the scratches now that his sleeves are pushed back down and he’s moving around in the jacket. Instead of distracting him they do the opposite - they keep him focused and present. Not that he needs that now, not when Magnus so easily commands all of his attention and eases his mind and his soul.

...he _doesn’t_ need it, not the way he used to. That would be a reassuring realization if the greater implication wasn’t even more concerning: he might not need it but he wants it, missing it enough to chase the ghost of it here on the balcony. Enough to know he has no intention of slipping away to apply a quick iratze.

“Ready?” Magnus asks, breaking into his thoughts. “Dinner awaits.”

“Dinner awaits,” Alec agrees, turning with him to leave.

When he says the long-sleeved shirt he wears to bed that night is because of the increasing chill in the air, he almost believes it himself.

\---

There’s no reason for Alec to run in front of the others the way he does, making no move to activate the seraph blade at his side. He’s too close, his blocks with his bow too sloppy, and it’s no surprise when he gets caught across his thigh by the sharp claws of the elapid demon. It’s especially no surprise to Alec because it’s exactly what he intended. This isn’t the first dangerous mission Alec volunteered himself for lately, and it isn’t the first he’ll come back injured from, either.

It _is_ a surprise when the claws are followed by teeth so quickly that he has no time to block when he actually wants to, and if it wasn’t for Jace throwing one of his knives at the demon’s head Alec would be in much worse shape than a few drops of venom from its fangs that managed to break the surface of his skin.

The mission is a success, technically speaking. They got the swarm of elapid demons taken care of without a single one escaping into the city and no one died, which is all that matters when it comes down to it as far as the Clave is concerned.

To almost anyone who’s there, it simply looks like Alec took control of the situation and put himself in front of the others to protect them like any good leader would. If he had a group of newbies with him or any of the numerous Shadowhunters he isn’t particularly close with, he could get away with that.

Except it isn’t just a ragtag group of ‘anyone else’ on the mission with him: it’s Jace. Alec tries to avoid him even as he feels his steps swaying from the poison in the venom hitting his bloodstream. He could’ve given himself an iratze at any point after the danger passed but he pushed himself in the hopes of drawing it out just long enough to write up a report first. Instead, he nearly passes out two steps past the front door. Foolish. Careless.

Jace practically drags him the rest of the way to the Infirmary.

“What the hell was that?” Jace demands the second the Infirmary’s healer walks away.

“I was too slow on the blo-” Alec starts, ready to repeat the same thing he’d told the nurse, but Jace isn’t having it.

“I was there. You weren’t too slow, you weren’t even _trying_ ,” Jace accuses.

Alec’s distracted, already missing the ache healed away by potions and iratzes, silently cursing himself for the careless slip-up that landed him in the infirmary rather than his office upon his return.

When Alec doesn’t immediately reply Jace charges on, unrelenting.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” The question holds both anger and sadness, the frustration of a brother and parabatai unable to help the hurting soul he’s attached to.

“What? No, of course not,” Alec says, forcing his head back into the conversation. “I fucked up, alright? I made a mistake, it won’t happen again.”

Does he mean he won’t pull a stunt like that again, or that he won’t get _caught_ pulling a stunt like that again? Alec isn’t certain, but the words are honest, a lot more honest than he’s allowed himself to be in a while. The longer the sentiment sits heavy in the air between them the more uncomfortable Alec grows. The pain used to be about grounding himself, about feeling in control, and lately he’s been anything but grounded or in control. Today he’d been borderline reckless.

“I’m on all your missions this week,” Jace says finally. It isn’t a request, and though Alec could pull rank and pick a fight he just doesn’t have it in him right then.

“Whatever,” Alec says, rolling his eyes. He isn’t _really_ angry with Jace for not believing him, not in small part because he knows that Jace is right. If their roles were reversed Alec would be doing the exact same thing, and if he had the presence of mind to be objective he’d know this is for the best. Except he can’t be rational when all he sees is a week without what’s become an almost routine pattern of trying to chase this particular release without completely giving in to it, and just thinking about going without it for that long puts him on edge.

“Should I call Magnus to come get you?” Jace asks, in a would-be casual tone under any other circumstances. They both know Alec won’t bother Magnus in the middle of the night over something like this, no matter how much he might want to, but if Jace calls, Alec can pretend it’s out of his hands and play it off as an overprotective sibling instead of a personal need.

“No,” Alec says, and maybe he turns the offer down a bit too forcefully because Jace immediately raises an eyebrow. “It’s already late, I’ll just sleep it off here.”

“You sure?” Jace asks again. They both _also_ know that Alec is much more likely to be persuaded to take care of himself by Magnus’ concern than Jace’s, especially after so many years of Alec conditioning himself to brush off his siblings’ worries as nothing more than nagging.

Alec nods. “I’m fine, really. Just tired.”

Jace eyes him warily for another minute. This is one of those rare moments he wishes Jace didn’t know him as well as he does. Alec can practically hear Jace mentally debating whether he should ignore both of Alec’s refusals and call Magnus anyway, but instead Jace sighs and decides not to push it. “Alright.”

Alec waits for Jace to leave before standing, stretching his sore limbs. It takes him all of two steps into the hallway before he gives in to the pull of the training room over his bedroom, telling himself it’s just to tire himself out a little before bed so he’ll sleep better. Except he can’t even fool himself on that one - he’s exhausted already and everything aches, and not in a good way. Up until now, he could lie to himself about exactly what he was doing, but this? He told himself as long as he didn’t end up back here that it wasn’t the same, that he hadn’t really slipped... And now here he is. If he does this, now, he’ll be crossing a line he isn’t sure he’ll come back from in one piece.

Instead of walking over to the punching bag he came here for Alec paces back and forth in front of the door, running his hands anxiously up and down his bare arms. At first, it’s an instinctive, comforting motion, but then he feels a familiar sting and looks down, surprised to see red lines where he’d turned to running his nails up and down his arms without meaning to.

Alec made a lot of mistakes lately - today especially - and coming here is just another one to add to the pile. He knows it, he acknowledges it this time in a way he hadn’t all the others… but instead of leaving, he begins to pace again, conflicted. He wants to stay. He wants to stay and shoot and hit the punching bag until he gets back that sense of distraction he lost earlier in the infirmary. He wants the pain to focus and ground him. He wants to give in so badly it nearly consumes him, until walking away barely feels like an option anymore.

He wants and desires and _craves_ more than he has in a long, long time… but he won’t allow himself to _need_ it.

Alec’s hands are shaking as he pulls the phone out of his back pocket and pulls up Magnus’ contact... Then he stares at the screen. And stares at it. And finally closes out of it and slips the phone back into his pocket.

He knows he should call Magnus. That he should talk to him, or Jace, or _anyone_ about what he’s feeling. There are people he can turn to, people who have told him time and time again that they’re willing to listen any time he needs... friends and family who know of his history and would be more than happy to help him talk things through instead of allowing himself to face these lows alone over and over.

He knows he should, but he can’t bring himself to do it. Talking about it would make something he’s barely been able to admit to himself feel too real, and his emotions are way too raw, too unstable to put into proper coherent thought just then. He doesn’t think he can handle the patronizing tones and pitying glances that would come with That Particular Conversation no matter how well-meant.

Alec spares one last, longing glance at the punching bag and the weapons rack before turning and walking out of the training room. He doesn’t stall or look back before heading straight towards the stairs that lead to his room. Maybe tomorrow he’ll be able to talk about it. Maybe tomorrow he can make that extra step. For now, he needs to figure out how to want this for himself.

For tonight, being able to walk away is a win he’s more than willing to take.


	2. Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next time things get bad enough that Alec finds himself in the training room, he knows he can't keep this all inside for much longer. Thankfully, he has people more than willing to be there for him... he just has to let them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enough people wanted a follow-up where Alec did talk to someone, and it was an ending I toyed with before settling on the one from part one, so I decided a follow up for the best of both worlds couldn't hurt <3

Alec doesn’t expect Magnus to swing by the Institute in the morning after he spent the night there instead of coming back to the Loft… which is why he’s still in bed when Magnus arrives. It’s an immediate tip-off that something’s wrong. Normally Alec goes back to Magnus’ in the morning if he crashes at the Institute, even if it’s just for coffee and to say good morning. Normally the only reason he wouldn’t do that is if he had an early start at work.

Normally Alec wouldn’t be struggling to force himself to find the will to roll out of bed and face his day.

The knock on his door wakes him up and Alec is tempted to ignore it until he hears Magnus’ hesitant, “Alexander?” through the door.

“S’not locked,” Alec manages to mumble just loud enough for Magnus to hear as he swings his legs over the side of the bed to sit up and run a hand through his hair, not that it does much.

“Good morning, darling. I brought you coffee,” Magnus says, holding out a travel coffee mug to him. Magnus knows how much he hates the coffee here ever since Magnus started spoiling him with various imported flavors. Alec smiles softly, willing the haze in his head to clear.

“Thanks,” Alec says, taking the coffee and standing to place a kiss on Magnus’ cheek. He can’t help the wince when he moves forward, his muscles still stiff from his injury the night before, and Magnus catches it.

“Are you hurt?” he asks immediately, and if Magnus didn’t have a coffee in his own hand Alec is certain there’d already be magic in the air.

“I’m fine,” Alec says immediately. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid by not going back. He doesn’t deserve concern over something that’s his own fault. He doesn’t want the reminder that his own reckless actions are enough to worry the people he cares about now. “Nothing they couldn’t patch up at the infirmary, it’ll just be sore until the iratze heals up the worst of it.”

“You should’ve called me,” Magnus says, and a moment later his coffee is down and Alec can only sigh and stand still while it probes into his thigh where the scratch is healing and his arm where the venomous fangs just barely caught him, easing most, if not all, of the lingering aches.

“It was late. I didn’t want to worry you,” Alec says, and Raziel, aren’t those words truer than he can possibly convey just then. He _doesn’t_ want to worry Magnus. And even though he feels an overwhelming desire to confess everything to him now that he’s standing here in front of him, he can’t imagine how it would make any of it _better_.

“What worries me is when you try to deal with everything on your own,” Magnus points out. “I want you to be comfortable coming to me for anything, Alexander. No matter how big or how small.”

He means it. Alec knows he means it, but just because he can see a safety net doesn’t mean he’s ready to step off the tightrope and use it.

“Really, it was nothing. But next time I’ll call,” he says, a lofty promise, but one he hopes he can follow through on. Alec seals it with a soft kiss to the corner of Magnus’ lips. “Thank you. For the coffee. And for healing my arm… and for being here.”

Alec wonders if he would’ve pulled himself out of bed before noon if Magnus hadn’t shown up.

Magnus gives Alec a soft smile and hums in response to the thanks. “Of course,” he says, looking Alec up-and-down again. “Are you sure you’re alright? I doubt they’d miss you too much here if you wanted to come back to the Loft and rest for a while.”

Alec shakes his head. He knows it’d be fine, no one is going to miss him for a morning of standard patrol debriefings, but he’d rather cling to whatever sense of routine he can today.

“See you tonight, though?” Alec asks hopefully.

“My last client is at 7, we could get takeout?” Magnus suggests.

“Sounds perfect,” Alec agrees, stealing one last kiss before Magnus leaves Alec alone in his room again.

It’s almost enough motivation to pretend that everything is fine again until the first thing that greets him on his desk is the report from the night before and every conflicting emotion he walked away from is back as he vividly recounts everything that happened and the guilt seeps back in.

By the time he finishes the report he already needs a break. He’s changed into his sweatpants and a tank top and halfway to the training room before hesitating, changing direction to head outside instead. He sets a timer on his phone for 30 minutes to turn around at. Just a quick jog to stretch his muscles and clear his head. He should be resting his leg properly even with Magnus’ healing… but Magnus _did_ heal him, so a run should be fine. Maybe he runs a little faster than he should at points, and stays out longer than he means to, but when Alec gets back an hour and a half later he knows it’s better than it could’ve been.

Baby steps.

\---

Alec feels like everything that can go wrong this week _is_ going wrong, and he only has himself to blame. With Jace on all his patrols and missions, actively watching his every move in the field, Alec’s barely had a single injury. This should be good, except it isn’t for two reasons: one, he misses the thrill of the carefully timed injuries more than he cares to admit, and two, he knows that _not_ getting them now only proves Jace’s initial suspicions that his previous injuries were more than the usual occupational hazards. It’s a lose-lose.

There was one slip up, a genuine one where Alec killed a demon but failed to see the one immediately behind it, landing him with a pretty nasty gash down his arm before he kills the second one, too. He can practically feel Jace’s eyes on him until he pulls out his stele and applies an Iratze to heal the worst of the damage before it can linger too long.

“How are you feeling?” Jace asks afterward.

“Fine,” Alec says with a shrug. “You saw me use the iratze. Entirely unprompted,” Alec adds.

“Yeah, I did,” Jace admits. “I’m proud of you.”

Something about the statement sours Alec’s stomach. “I don’t need a gold star for doing my fucking job, Jace.”

Jace hesitates. “I wasn’t-”

“And I don’t need you patronizing me,” Alec adds. He knows it isn’t fair, that Jace is just trying to help and be supportive, but it’s difficult to accept support for a problem you don’t want to admit you have in the first place so any acknowledgment of it only puts Alec more on edge. And right now he feels like he’s teetering. Right now he feels seconds away from falling over it.

So he turns and walks away, ignoring Jace’s confused voice trying to call him back and apologize even though he has nothing to apologize for, not really, and they both know it… which only makes Alec feel _worse_.

He doesn’t know where he’s going, he just knows he has to distance himself for a little bit. Just until he can reel himself back in. It’s late, sometime after midnight by now, and Alec aimlessly wanders the halls of the Institute until he passes by the open door of the training room and realizes his wandering was a little less ‘aimless’ than he thought.

Goddamn muscle memory.

Alec hesitates outside of the door for a minute, and then two, and then three. He should walk away. He really should.

He doesn’t.

The spikes in demon activity and piles of paperwork and Jace’s hovering he could mostly manage, but actually _fighting_ with Jace put him over the edge. He can’t be so strung up that he snaps in the middle of conversations because if he’s doing it with Jace it’s only a matter of time before he’s snapping at trainees, or Max, or his _superiors_. He has to fix this, and in his mind, there’s only one way to do that now.

Before he even finishes the thought he’s standing in front of the punching bag, still in his patrol gear… but he hesitates. Alec looks back toward the door as if expecting Jace to be there to stop him. When he isn’t and Alec feels disappointed, it catches him so off-guard he actually takes a few steps away from the bag to lean against the wall and tilt his head back, closing his eyes.

What is he doing?

When he opens them again Jace _is_ standing in the doorway, hovering uncertainly, and Alec huffs out a laugh at the sight. Maybe he should be more careful what he wishes for.

“If I say I’m disappointed in you does that work like reverse psychology and get you back out of there?” Jace asks, doing his best to diffuse the tension he knows is lingering just beneath the surface, pulled tight and straining everything.

“Sorry I lost it back there,” Alec says, not moving away from the wall. Jace takes a few tentative steps into the training room instead.

“Don’t be,” Jace says, waving away the apology. “I probably could’ve gone about that better, I just don’t really know how.” That isn’t Jace’s fault. Jace asked a few times before all of this how he could help, what he could do, what Alec needs… and every time Alec just said he’s fine and shut down instead. He can already feel it happening again and this time latches onto that sense of self-awareness he doesn’t normally have before it’s too late and he’s dripping blood onto the training room floor.

“You were just trying to be supportive,” Alec says, watching some of the guilt in Jace’s expression fade at the reassurance.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jace asks.

“No,” Alec admits. “But I probably should. Just… tomorrow?” He needs time to unwind, to gather his thoughts, to not feel so raw and defensive and on edge.

Jace looks reluctant to just walk away and Alec doesn’t blame him for that either.

“I’m going to call Magnus,” Alec says finally. He doesn’t particularly want to do that, either, but he knows he’ll feel better not being alone tonight.

“Too good for a sleepover in my room like old times?” Jace asks with a forced laugh. “Of course. Go be with your boyfriend. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Instead of leaving, Jace walks towards Alec, wrapping his arms around him in an embrace that’s just the right side of too-tight. “Take care of yourself, alright? These routine training patrols you’re on suck and I can’t wait to pull myself back off of them.”

“Asshole,” Alec says, but there’s no heat in the words, only an immeasurable fondness. Alec hears Jace’s footsteps stop a few feet down the hall and rolls his eyes at the realization that he’s waiting to make sure Alec actually _does_ call Magnus and doesn’t just turn back to the punching bag now that he’s alone again.

It’s tempting, but Alec forces himself to pull out his phone and dial Magnus’ number instead. He hasn’t realized how nervous he is until his hands shake a bit making the call, holding his breath before hitting send.

It rings a few times. For a moment he isn’t sure Magnus is going to answer, and Alec feels a pang of fear that he won’t have the strength to walk away from his urges twice in one night.

Then he hears a click and Magnus’ voice following a bit of fumbling. “Alexander?”

“Magnus,” Alec says the name in a shuddering, relieved breath. So much for playing it cool.

“What’s wrong?” Magnus prompts.

“Sorry it’s so late,” Alec says instead of answering. He’s aware of the sound of his own strained breathing, the way every word seems to shake as he says it.

“Don’t be sorry, darling,” Magnus says, but now Alec’s doubting his decision to call Magnus for help because he can hear how worried Magnus is through the phone. “Are you hurt?”

“No,” Alec says. It’s an answer meant to comfort Magnus and the irony isn’t lost on Alec that not being hurt is Alec's problem just then. It’s that he wants to hurt so much it… well, so much it hurts, just not _that way_. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have called so late, I’m-” _not okay_ “-not hurt.”

Alec wonders if Magnus will see right through him if he goes back to the Loft now. He just wants to collapse into bed and fall asleep in the arms of his boyfriend, but if Magnus can hear the guilt in his tone he’ll surely see it on his face, and if he wants to talk about it…

Maybe he should just stay here for the night anyway. Alec can survive a night alone on his awful Institute mattress and scratchy sheets.

“I just wanted to tell you I’m going to stay here tonight, so you weren’t worried when you woke up. Love you.” The words come out in a rush, Alec suddenly eager to hang up and forget this ever happened, but he doesn’t do it fast enough.

“Alec, wait,” Magnus says, sounding louder and much more awake now than moments before. “You sound upset.”

It isn’t a question. Alec doesn’t answer.

“Please talk to me?” Magnus encourages.

Alec paces. He’s dimly aware of tears stinging his eyes as a heavy silence hangs over the phone line, but he doesn’t hang up and Magnus doesn’t push him to speak.

“I didn’t mean for it to go this far,” Alec says finally. “Things haven’t even been that bad lately, there’s no reason for me to want it so much…” He doesn’t have to say what ‘it’ is, knowing by the sharper-than-usual intake of breath on the other end of the phone that Magnus understands. “But I do. I miss the way it grounded me. I miss the control. I just feel so goddamn out of control right now,” Alec says, all anger and frustrated tears.

“I know you do,” Magnus says. “And I’m glad you called me. Now I need you to be honest - I know I already asked if you were hurt, but-”

“I’m not,” Alec is quick to repeat. “Not anymore. I… was. On the mission. But Jace was there and made sure I got an iratze so I’m fine now.” He’s aware of the wording he chooses, the implications of which he’s sure won’t go unnoticed by Magnus.

“And where are you now?”

“The training room,” Alec admits quietly, knowing the implications of _that_ , too. “But I didn’t- I mean, obviously I came here to... but I didn’t do anything. I called you first.” Alec winces at the admission. “Sorry. Raziel, that sounds so fucking selfish, to put that on you-”

“You aren’t putting anything on me, Alec. I love you. And if you’re hurting, I want to help. If that’s a phone call in the middle of the night, I’d rather take that than healing broken knuckles in the morning, or getting the call that you didn’t make it back from your next patrol.” Alec can hear the waver in Magnus’ voice despite his best efforts to stay calm for Alec’s sake. “Don’t you ever think you can’t come to me, with this or anything else. Okay?”

Alec makes a noncommittal noise that’s more mumble than reply, kicking at the floor of the training room with the toe of his boot. He hates this. He hates every part of this, from admitting how badly he’s fucked up lately to how weak it makes him feel to the guilt of worrying Jace and Magnus…

“I’d like to come to you,” Magnus says, interrupting the thoughts spiraling in his head. “If that’s alright?”

The fact that Magnus asks even though they both know he could’ve already been there doesn’t surprise Alec. Magnus knows Alec is more receptive to things he has control over rather than things he’s forced into, even if those ‘things’ are help and comfort and support. Magnus always respects his boundaries, even the questionable ones, always patiently waiting for Alec to open up instead of forcing his way in.

“Actually,” Alec says at length. “Can I come to you?” He needs to get out of this room. If he has to talk to Magnus he doesn’t want it to be here. “That’s why I was calling. I know it’s late but I didn’t want to stay here tonight.”

“Of course,” Magnus says, and Alec swears the swirl of portal magic in front of him opens up before Magnus finishes speaking those two syllables.

It’s there, waiting just for him, but Alec hesitates. He doesn’t hang up the phone. He also doesn’t move toward the portal. He feels bone-weary and embarrassed and-

“...Alec? We don’t have to talk about it anymore tonight if you don’t want to. Just come home, please.”

-and loved. Alec has so much love in his life that no matter how weak he might feel, he has to trust the support offered by those around him to hold him up and keep him going. He can get back on track, he just needs to take that first step.

Alec ends the call, takes a deep breath, and walks through the portal.

**Author's Note:**

> (Find me on [Tumblr](http://bytheangell.tumblr.com) and also on [Twitter](http://www.twitter.com/By_The_Angell)! <3 )


End file.
